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Monday, March 24, 2014

Monday's Minute Challenge: Writing Prompt Contest for Teens & Up

A quick writing challenge (and contest) to help get your creative juices flowing for the new week.

The entry must be between 150 - 300 words. Otherwise, your entry will not be accepted. (In order to see how many words your entry is, write it in Microsoft Word, or you can copy and paste it here.)

The deadline for the contest will be the following Friday.

You do not have to be a teen to enter the contest.

The same person cannot win first place two weeks in a row.

If there is at least 5 entries, the panel of judges will select a 2nd and 1st place. If there is at least 10 entries, the judges will select a 3rd, 2nd, and 1st place. However, if there is under 5 entries, the panel of judges will only select one winner.

If there are at least 10 entries, there will be a few Honorable Recognitions, which are the next highest winners. They will receive a badge, as well as 3 points.

The winners will receive a badge for their blog, as well as extra points (see the point system below).

The winner will be chosen based on the judges's preferences, as well as the following questions: Does this entry capture my attention immediately? Does it make me want to continue reading? Is the writing clear? They will also take into consideration the writer's voice and style--not necessarily technical issues, such as grammar, punctuation, etc.

If you have entered at least 3 contests and have yet to place, send me an email and I will be happy to give you a critique of your last entry, which will include tips and suggestions.

This is only for fun and to stretch your writing muscles--not necessarily to be taken too seriously. =)

Prizes:

More prizes to come!

30 points: You will be able to create your own prompt that will be used in Monday's Minute Challenge!

40 points: You will receive a critique based on your current week's entry.

50 points: You will receive a free blog critique and helpful suggestions.

70 points: You will receive an 700 word critique on your novel, short story, article, etc.

2 points: If you respond to another person's entry. (Positive feedback only! You may respond more than once, however the points will only count for one response per week.)

10 points: If you win 1st place in the writing prompt contest.

7 points: If you win 2nd place in the writing prompt contest.

5 points: If you win 3rd place in the writing prompt contest.

3 points: You receive an Honorable Recognition.

Points Tracker:

TW Wright: 53

Mary B: 32

Elisabeth: 35

Funto: 9

Benj. Evans: 10

S. Brightly: 52

Jacqueline: 50

Rebekah B: 19

Anna: 7

His Princess: 33

Tara T: 22

Evan: 10

Rcubed: 34

Sarah: 22

Jillian: 10

Brooke: 5

Kaley: 2

Karina: 21

Kaira Anne: 7

*Points are updated every Monday.

*When you request to use your points for a prize, the points you use will be taken away from your total. In other words, when you reach 30 points, you can claim the prize for 30 points--but it will cost you all of your points. Or you can continue to try and earn points so you can claim a bigger prize.

Keep in mind that you cannot win first place two weeks in a row.If you have entered at least 3 contests and have yet to win, please send me an email and I will be happy to give you a critique of your last entry and offer suggestions.

The judge panel chooses these winners based on a point system (not to be confused with the point system mentioned above!)It seems as though everyone continues to improve each week. Great job, you guys! The judging process just keeps getting harder and harder. You all deserve to win. =)Since there were two entries that had the same amount of points for 3rd place, we have decided that they both deserved to place. (Keep in mind that the judges are not aware of which entry belongs to which participant until after the judging is complete.)The entries that the judges thought was the most intriguing (based on rule #4) is ...

Third place winner (#1):

The staircase looked out of a fairy tale, I slowly stepped onto the first step, then more and more, walking up the beautiful staircase as if in a dream. I could just imagine fairies flitting up the stairway, or naiads swimming in the water below. But wasn't there some fairy tale mentioning a staircase? I thought though a zillion common fairy tales, the one I wanted just out of reach.

“Rina!” My older brother called from below, I turned around to go down. Horror coursed though my body as I remembered the tale I'd heard this from. The stairs below the step I stood on were gone. Below me was a drop, as high as a 4 story building. I backed quickly away from the newly formed edge, only for the step I'd been standing on a moment prior to disappear.

I looked around, but there was no way of escape, My knees wobbled, and I sat down, only to stand back up in horror. What I'd thought were white branches, were actually human bones.

Congratulations, Kaira Anne! Send me an email at christiswrite (at) gmail (dot) com so I can have your badge sent to you. =)

Third place winner (#2):

Kassidy
said that it all started when the book arrived. She said that it was one of
those weird books, with the type of cover that you just stop and stare at for a
moment.
“It arrived as a book itself,” she'd told me, oh, about fifty years ago. “No
package, no anything. Just a book.”
I look at it now, running my smooth teenage fingers over the spine.
Kass said that she wasn't able to open it. “Nobody was. Just to the front page.
But the thing started then. I knew it. I could feel it.”
I can almost hear the conviction in her words, even though Kass is long gone.
She went to Hawaii, because she said that she couldn't stand living in the same
house for a hundred years.
Now, I stare at the book. It's been sitting on our kitchen table for well over
a century. I've never opened it, just recalled what Kass told me about
it.
“But March seventeenth,” she'd said to me right before she left for Hawaii,
“March seventeenth, Lindyll, is when you open it. Not a moment less, not a
moment more. March seventeenth.” I hadn't had a chance to ask her why.
I stare at The Book's wooden curlicues, rope binding, faded maroon
leather.
Before I know what is happening, my fingers pry it open, and the cover falls
back against the table with a light thunk.
My breath catches in my throat as I read the faded brown ink on the front page,
and familiarity—familiarity that I haven't felt in years—hits me.
The Journal of Christianna Spryling.
“It's about time.”
At the voice, I turn.
I see her immediately, and the same feeling of deja vu overtakes me.
No. Not again.

Congratulations, Rcubed! Send me an email at christiswrite (at) gmail (dot) com so I can have your badge sent to you. =)

Second place winner:

The darkness around me was so thick, I could've almost convinced myself it was a dream, if not for the sharp sting of scratches on my arms.I shouldn't have come out tonight. It was crazy. But I knew where it was now, and come hell or high water, nothing was going to keep me from coming after it. Finding the spot was so easy I almost couldn't believe it was real. I gripped the spade as tightly as my hands would allow, sliding the smooth edges into the damp ground, tossing the dirt to the side until it had accumulated into a small hill. The deeper I dug, the faster my pulse raced.But when I felt a thud against solidness, I knew it had all been worth it. Dropping to my knees, I clawed the dirt away as fast as I could. Once it was free, I snatched it out, holding it to me as something too precious to be let go.The package was smaller than I'd thought it would be. Heavier. I slowly unwrapped the cloth that bound it, pulled open the mushy cardboard flaps. It was... a book? No; a journal. The soft binding had a musty smell. I opened it cautiously, almost expecting something to fly out at me. For something to be hidden this well, it had to be dangerous. I could almost hear Colin's gravelly voice warning me, "Kadie, girl, don't go looking for an answer you don't want to find."The sliver of the moon suddenly lit up the page, as if God himself wanted me to read it right then."March 18th, 1986."My breath caught. 1986? But that meant-I heard the footsteps behind me too late. The thick-gloved hand cut off my air before I could even think of screaming.

Congratulations, S. Brightly! Send me an email at christiswrite (at) gmail (dot) com so I can have your badge and ebook sent to you. =)

First place winner (#1):

I stare up in awe at the staircase looming before me. It stretches up from the swamp into the sky, twisting through the clouds until it disappears from sight. Could this be real? Or is it simply a dream? I had heard the legends before, every girl had, but I never dreamed they were true. I put one foot on the bottom step and put a little weight on it. It held. Taking a deep breath I stepped up onto the first step. I let out the breath. It was said that any girl who found the staircase and climbed it, would meet her true love at the top. Taking another step, I smile widely. I had never put much faith in the true love business, going so far as to say I never wanted a husband. Of course, that was equal to blasphemy according to the village girls. But now that I’ve found the staircase, I would be a liar if I said I didn’t want to reach the top. With a giddy laugh, I continue up the stairs, practically skipping. It is much easier than I expected. I always thought there would be obstacles, tests to prove your worth, but such is not the case. Eventually, my excitement wears off and fatigue sets in, but I won’t stop. I can see the top. I will make it. Every few steps I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. When I finally reach the top, I look up and gasp. This is no dream; it is a nightmare.

Congratulations, Jacqueline! Send me an email at christiswrite (at) gmail (dot) com so I can have your badge sent to you. =)

Remember:1) Your response should range between 150 - 300 words, otherwise it will not be accepted. (Copy and paste your entry here to count the words, or you could write it on Microsoft Word.)
2) The deadline for the contest is this Friday.Choose at least one:

Be personally mentored step-by-step through your writing journey, for however long you wish!

And more!

Beginning your writing journey can become a bit overwhelming and confusing. By enrolling in this Writing Mentoring Program for Beginners, I will break down the process for you and mentor you throughout the process.

If you refer a friend to join, you will both receive 20% off! (Tip: Ask one of your friends participating in Monday's Minute Challenge if they would like to pair with you to claim this deal.)

112 comments:

Here is my story. It is a continuation of the first story I wrote for Monday's Minute Challenge. 270 words.

As the form staggered into the moonlight I could see it was a man. My head felt light and the world started to spin. I was going to faint. The figure stumbled a few steps before collapsing in a heap on the road. The spinning world came to an abrupt halt.

Wait, what just happened? Was this some kind of a trick or something? I quirked an eyebrow and felt my cold feet inch closer, my curiosity getting the better of me. "Um, excuse me? A-are you alright?" I called. His head jerked up and the moonlight shining on him showed the fear in his eyes. He stared at me a moment before desperately motioning me forward. Dumbly, I went and knelt beside him. He was a young man about mid twenties dressed in very worn old clothing. Mud clung to his hair and week-old stubble rested on his dirty cheeks. He grabbed my hand all the while glancing around furtively. "I need your help." he whispered.

"I should say you do. What happened?"

"Shhhh."He glanced around again. "We need to get off the road. We aren't safe here."

"Not safe? We're more safe here then we would be off in the bushes."

He shook his head. "You don't understand, they can see us here!"

This was so confusing. "Who can see you?"

He looked at me hard as if trying to decide whether to trust me or not. His hand clenched tighter around mine. The fear in his eyes grew in intensity as he said," Them." I turned to look where he was staring and my heart stopped beating.

OK seriously guys, I wrote that last line probably six different times and between my brothers and I we came up with like 50 different ways you could end this story! :)

“You. Are. Insane.” He grabbed my arm. “Do you have any idea what this could do to your reputation?” I snorted. “Nice one, Oryon. Like it isn't in ruins already after what happened.” “I'm serious. You could get hurt. Nobody knows what goes on there, Emeli. Nobody. Because nobody ever comes back.” “It's time somebody did.” I stared out at the expanse of blue water, my heart quivering but yearning at the same time. Swirls of rough red sand accosted my back, but I was used to it. Nothing would hold me back from this journey. “You can't just expect to make it back here alive!” There he was, clawing at my arm again. I detest people who touch me. “They're all dead, Emeli. Worms are eating their bones as we speak.” Oryon always was a tad too dramatic. I yanked my arm back and reached over the bridge railing. My fingers slid easily through the damp ocean breeze. “Who said they died there?” Oryon leaned forward. “What?” “Who said they died there?” I swung around to face him. Color drained from his face. “What if it was so amazing, and magical, that they never wanted to come back?” The wind whipped my hair around as I whispered the words. “That's why I'm going, Oryon. To find out.”

I walked down the road. Debating whether to take the right or the left path. To wander in the desert or to swim in an endless ocean. I couldn’t decide.They called to me. The desert louder. Telling me if I went that way I would find an oasis. It wouldn’t be too hard. Not as much work as the water. But the voice of the ocean nagged at me. “The hard way leads to the safe place.”That’s where I wanted to get to. The safe place. But which way really led to it? I had to make a choice. And now. The sun was quickly setting, and I had to get move. If I stayed monsters of the past would get me. I could hear them getting closer. Which way? Which way?Then it was clear. I knew what I had to do. If I went through the desert, the easy way, the monsters would follow me. But the ocean, well they couldn’t swim. Even if it was going to be hard, I needed to go. I slipped into the water just as the angry beasts leapt for me.I woke with a start. Breathing heavily. I didn’t usually have dreams that meant something, but that dream sure didn’t seem a coincidence.“I’ve got to talk to David,” I whisper. “The hard life here Lila comes. And you better watch out because I’ve got lots of emotion today.”My stomach rolled as I thought about the conversation that was coming. But I needed to get this behind me, and that wasn’t going to happen if I took the easy way.

The one thing that was destroying me was the very thing I couldn't seem to let go of; no one can escape their own mind. I screamed, trying to block out the nightmares that haunted me by day and night. “They're not real, They're not real, not real Gen. Not real.” I assured myself, over and over again. Footsteps approached, the steps of a large beast. A flash of red caught my eye. Was that wings scraping the ground as it screeched towards me? I screamed again as the dragon flapped it's wings and dive towards me, feeling the cold breath on my cheek, and the vibrations of the ground. Covering my face with my hands I waited for almost certain death.

My feet found their way on the track that led through the wood. I traveled from the lough on my way home. It was not long before I came to the stretch where I lived. There was smoke in the chimney; it would be a cold night. Shutting the door tightly behind me, I saw my father in one of his rare moments. He sat by the fire with his fiddle on his lap. The glow of the flame showed me his pensive face. I caught a glimpse of his wrinkled brow as he turned towards me. “Me boy, wheer ya been?,” he said. “Oh yeh know, just down to the lough.” I casually replied. It must have been something in my voice, his expression softened.“Want ta hear a tune?”“That’d be swell!”I pulled up a chair to listen to the strains of “Tobhair dom do lamh.” It was only occasionally that he pulled out the fiddle. I had even heard him talking to mum about selling it, which he never got round to doing. I gazed into the fire as the song continued. I remembered how my brother loved to hear Father, the rare times he played. Maybe this was a song for him. I noticed the subtle change as the tune switched, this time to a jig I knew as “Swallowtail.” It was approaching the time I usually retired, but I stayed there in the midst firelight and listened. The hour drew on until the final note was heard, lost in the silence of a cold Irish night.

I stare into the eyes of what I am certain is a demon. Nothing else would have ruby red eyes trimmed in gold. Thick black lines curl across his scarred face. “We got another one.” He hisses. Peeking behind him I see a crowd of creatures, some like him, others even more grotesque. “What are you going to do with me?” I ask. My hands start shaking and I try to step back, but he snatches my arm and jerks me forward.“What we do with all silly girls, of course.” Then he begins to cackle manically. I don’t cry. I want to, but I don’t. My hand quits shaking and I take a deep breath. I have to be calm if I’m going to escape. His grip on my arm tightens, his fingernails digging into my skin. “Put her with the others.” He shoves me toward a different demon, who grabs both my shoulders and starts leading me away. As we walk, I take careful note of all of our surroundings. We step down a small flight of stairs into what is most likely a dungeon. The demon shoves me so that I fall to the ground inside a cell. He slams the door shut. I stand and survey the other prisoners. They are all young girls. “Well, it’s not much of an army, but it will have to do.”

I want to know the winners!!! They are all so good, I don't know how anyone could ever decide on a winner. :)Hey Tessa, do you think we could just post the winners on, oh I don't know, maybe this Thursday?Lol, just kidding. :D

This is my first time entering, so here we go. I chose the third option, the quote. Mine is 295 words.

“He’s killing you! Why can’t you see that?” she yells at me, exasperation coloring her words.

I look into my sister’s pain filled eyes, angry tears running down her flushed face. Her chest rises and falls harshly in an uneven rhythm. She’s out of breath from the one sided screaming match she just participated in.

“He’s killing you.” She repeats in a broken whisper.

“He’s not a bad man, Maggie. He’s just…” I trail off unsure of what to say. No words seem right.

“You can’t change him, you know.” She tells me roughly. “He’s sick.”

“He just needs a little help…some time! Some time to turn things around. He’s not perfect. I know that.” I sigh heavily, collecting my thoughts. “But I know he’s not broken. I know he can be a better man, the man he used to be.” I smile a little, but I know it probably looks more like a grimace.

“Believe me, Maggie.” I plead as I take my older sister’s hand and squeeze it gently. “If he was hurting me, I wouldn't stay. I would leave. Promise.”

But even as I say this, I know I’m lying not only to my sister, but to myself as well. He does hurt me. His addiction kills me little by little each day, but I still stay. I stay because I have hope. Hope that one day he’ll give it all up and become the man I once knew.

Hope is a crippling emotion that can either sink you or save you, and as I sit here with Maggie I realize that it’s slowly drowning me no matter how much I fight it. The one thing that is destroying me is the very thing that I can’t seem to let go of.

I fought hard, but to no avail. They had their arm wrapped around me so tightly, crushing my collarbone into my chest. I couldn't breathe. They were dragging me back to the woods. Darkness was pressing up against the edge of my eyes, and it wasn't just the night. I was losing consciousness. I kicked my heels into the soft ground, desperately gathering the little bit of air I had left. I pushed it out with all the force I could muster, hoping it might pass as a scream. It barely whistled past the hand clamped over my face, then died. Oh, dear God, was I going to die out here? The thought took what oxygen I had left, and panic-filled remorse pulsed sharply through my veins. I'd been warned. And now I was going to pay the price. The arms around me suddenly let go, and I fell to the ground. I gasped in air, my shoulders throbbing in time with my racing heart. Run. I had to run. A hand twisted in my hair, halting me painfully. My head yanked around. My assailant's face was only inches from mine. And I knew those blue eyes so well.

218 words. I am using the prompt, "The one thing that was destroying me was the very thing I couldn't seem to let go of."

The one thing that was destroying me was the very thing I couldn't seem to let go of.

My life. That was the one thing that was destroying me. My family was falling apart and I felt it was partially my fault. I tried to come back out of my deep thoughts. I wanted to hear the rest of this argument to make sure it didn't turn out bad. It was between my older brother Cody and my parents...again.

"Please, Cody, don't leave," my little sister Kaya begged as he stepped out the door. Now was when I knew I had to step in. I ran outside after him, with my parents and my little sister following close behind.

"Cody," I said, "why are you going?"

"Why would I stay?" he answered. He started walking across the street. I followed him. "Cody, you can't go," I said, hearing a noise that seemed to be getting louder. "Tess!" Kaya screamed. "Move!"

I looked out straight ahead of me. I don't know why it didn't hit me until now. I heard the noise, why didn't I move? There came the car with its bright headlights, going forty miles an hour. I froze.

"Tess, move!" Cody jumped out into the street and shoved me. I hit the pavement. Everything went black.